Nor did it involve tackling the mound of writing projects that has kidnapped me from the blogosphere as of late. Though, perhaps, it should have. And, perhaps, I should not have just admitted to procrastinating those aforementioned projects when my employers read my blog. Lo siento .

Well, no use in crying over spilled milk words…

Yesterday’s mission was of the nut butter nature.

And it was prompted by dosnut butter revelations.

Nut Butter Revelation #1: I currently have 13 open jars of nut butter residing in my pantry. As someone who once declared herself too anal to have more than one nut butter open at once, this revelation made me incredibly anxious. And the OCD-freak in me immediately decided that it was time to clear out some of those nut butters. Fear not. By clear out, I clearly mean consume.

Nut Butter Revelation #2: There is one buttah, in particular, that’s been occupying shelf space longer than the rest: cashew butter. If you recall, I first tried cashew butter back in November, and my sticky-mouthed verdict was, “meh.” Since then, I’ve dipped in for several “let’s give this another shot”-spoonfuls. But, time and again, the taste underwhelms me, and I deliberately neglect consumption. Clearly. Since five months after opening the jar, nearly three quarters remain. Not to sound like a guy, but I swear that’s never happened before.

¡Sí! I looooooved this breakfast. Sure, the cashew butter got by with a little help from his jelly and hummus friends. But if Mission Learn to Like Cashew Butter calls for a little crazy flavor combining, I’m all for it.

Since I’d already gone down the hummus for breakfast path, I figured I’d wrap up my meal with a little manzana and Sabra duet.

The ‘cado and peppers were added for prettification/nutrification/they-were-on-their-last-leggification.

(The green fruta, though, is part of my ongoing mission to learn to like avocados. I know, I know. I’m the only person food blogger in the mundo who doesn’t love avocados. Much like with cashew butter, I find their taste really underwhelming. But they’re pretty fantastic for you—and I always have an abundance of ‘em en mi casa (and can’t watch food go bad… another OCD thang)—so I’m trying, people.)

I did get some cashews in at lunchtime—in non butter form—with a side of homemade trail mix.

However, I certainly discovered delicioso accomplices that make cashew butter consumption an enjoyable experiencia. What are your thoughts on cashew butter? Any suggestions for other flavor combos that’ll help me get through the jar more quickly?I’m on a mission here, people…

I always look like the Victoria’s Secret model featured in the above link when donning said get-up.

Lies. In reality, I often cook immediately after showering. So my towel-dress-thingamajig—which I consider appropriate chef attire—is usually decorated with hummus (or salsa, or some other condiment I frequently dip my grubby hands into mid-cooking). As is my face.

Your eyes do not deceive you. That is, in fact, a portobello mushroom the size of my head.

Last week, my local produce market put out giant portobello mushroom caps. I love portobello mushroom caps. I also love “Honey, I Blew Up the Kid”-sized vegetables.

And so, I present to you the many ways I’ve been merrily making my way through my ‘shroom stash.

“Sticky Rice” Oatmeal-Stuffed Portobello

(Don’t cringe. I promise, it tasted fantástico.)

Ingredients:

1 mammoth portobello mushroom cap

EVOO + sea salt

1/2 cup old-fashioned oats

3/4 cup water

dash salt

2 tbsp. soy sauce

1/2 packet stevia

Directions:

Microwave 1/2 cup oats with a dash of salt and just over 3/4 cup of water for 2.5 minutes.

Combine 2 tbsp. of soy sauce with 1/2 packet of stevia.

Stir soy sauce mixture into oats and set aside.

Broil portobello (lightly rubbed with EVOO and sea salt) for 5 minutes on each side. (Mind you, this was for a big shroom. For a normal-sized portobello, you’d probably only need to broil for 3 minutes per side.)

Remove from oven, fill with oatmeal mixture and broil for an additional 3-4 minutes until top is browned and slightly crispy.

First, let’s take a gander at the final product.

If my webcam head-to-‘shroom comparison didn’t convince you that these babies were L.A.I.C. (real language translation: large and in charge), the above picture is my A-‘roid-riffic portobello on a dinner plate.

Never one to miss the boat on melding food obsessions, I seized the ‘shroom and allowed my cravings to combine forces.

I had to replace old-fashioned oats (you could use instant, but I didn’t have any en casa) for the packet of instant oatmeal I used in the original “recipe” because it wouldn’t have been enough to stuff this big ‘bello.

It turned out perfectly. The second broiling created an amazing outer layer of crispiness—and the flavoring from the soy sauce-stevia combo seeped into the ‘shroom. Glad I took that leap of taste.

Bake the portobello cap at 400° for 7-8 minutes (time would be more like 4-5 minutes for more average-sized portobellos).

Cook bacon in skillet.

Once bacon is cooked, add onions and sauté until caramelized.

Add roasted red peppers and cooked couscous and sauté on low-heat for 3-4 minutes, just allowing enough time for the flavors to combine.

Place portobello in ramekin, pouring any juices into the bottom. Top with skillet mixture and press down down with a spoon, making a well in the center.

Break egg into the well(o) of the portobello. Bake until the whites are cooked through but the yolks are slightly runny.

So, have I converted to bacon-eating? Negativo. I made these for a couple of hombres—one being the infamous Kev Thug—and they both raved about them. So I figured I’d share. Because, you know, some people in blogland do eat bacon.

Broil portobello (lightly rubbed with EVOO and sea salt) for 5 minutes on each side.

Caramelize chopped onions in a EVOO-coated skillet for 3 minutes, or until translucent.

In a separate bowl, mix can of tuna, Laughing Cow, capers and caramelized onions.

Remove portobello from oven when cooked, stuff with tuna mixture and top with shredded mozzarella.

Return to broiler for 2-4 minutes, dependent on how crispy/burnt you want your outer layer.

Best. Combination. Ever.

I’m not sure if the brilliance was in the double cheesiness or the capers. I’m a little biased because I’m obsessed with capers and sort of think they make anything taste better. But I guess I have the same philosophy when it comes to cheese.

Especially simultaneously melty and crispy queso.

With that, I’ll conclude my ode to cabeza-sized ‘shrooms. But I can’t promise you won’t be seeing más. I may or may not have refilled the ‘shroom stash yesterday… .

For any new readers who’ve not yet had the pleasure of “meeting” Gigi, she’s my sassy five-year-old quasi-hermanita (translation: little sister). I say quasi because she’s not really my sister. She’s my dad’s girlfriend’s daughter. But she’s been en mi vida since the very first day she arrived to America when she was 10 months old (she’s adopted from Guatemala), so I consider her familia.

Why, you may wonder, am I referring to a beloved familia member as birth control? Well, last week, I had the pleasure of spending an entire día with Dora because she had a day off from escuela. Note my use of the word pleasure, which is not meant to carry any tones of sarcasm. I truly enjoyed my Dora-filled día, but it was utterly exhausting. Kudos to las madres who muster up the energy to deal with kiddie chaos day in and day out, but un día with Gigi was enough to confirm that there will be no mini foodies en mi futuro for a very long time.

The previous night, I’d dreamt up a decadent bowl of oats. And we all know what ensues when you conjure up a creation in the midst of slumber. (This is assuming that everyonedreams of food. Right?) You awake fully intent on making that delicious dream a reality.

Or maybe I’m just a foodie freak. But when I dream of Jeannie foodgasms, I make ‘em happen.

So, let’s get to the bowl of my dreams. The base was my standard banana, egg white oat bran. The topping was the culprit behind the drool on my pillow. I envisioned my creamy oats drowning (in a happy way) in a pool of strawberry pomegranate syrup.

I’ve never made any sort of fruit syrup before—but I had my first pint of seasonal strawberries and some POM samples that Kristen generously sent my way a few weeks ago—so I figured it was worth a shot.

The only problemo? I had to pick Dora up in 20 minutes—and didn’t have the time to simultaneously stir a pot of oats and an experimental pot of syrup.

A normal person would have abandoned Plan Oat Bran and thrown together a quick yogurt mess. But I’ve always been next to normal. At least on the food front.

So I convinced myself decided that creating my very first fruit syrup in the microwave was entirely plausible.

I can’t remember the logic behind that decision—I was frantically packing snacks and getting myself in order for mi día con Dora—but it was a great call.

Super creamy oats with a hint (italics, bold and underline necessary to emphasize the word hint) of strawberry and pomegranate. Not the bowl of my dreams—but I didn’t hate it.

I scooped Dora from her madre, and then we were off.

Places to go, people to see…

By that, I mean supermarkets to visit,supermarket workers (who admittedly know me by name/think I’m suspicious for spending so much time perusing the aisles) to see…

Sí, Gigi and I were off to do some grocery shopping!

Gigi’s madre hates grocery shopping, especially with Gigi because—for some strange reason—Gigi behaves terribly during supermercado trips with her madre. We discovered that Gigi not only behaves during—but enjoys—grocery shopping with me—and we need not address my amor for food shopping. So I volunteer my grocery store services whenever Nancy (la madre de Gigi, la novia de mi padre) is in need.

One thing I’ve learned regarding Gigi and food shopping: She always “gets hungry” on the way. I guess the idea of entering a magical mundo of food-filled aisles whets her appetite. Can’t blame la chica.

I packed provisions.

We had a riveting discussion about the difference between Special K bars and Clif Z bars—wherein Gigi learned that Z bars are not only healthier, but also more filling. She assured me that no bar was too filling for her big girl appetite.

Somehow, a quarter of her way into the bar, she went back on her word and declared fullness.

And, so, 3/4 of a Z bar ended up on my lap.

And by in my lap, I mean in my mouth.

Maybe this “mommy” thing isn’t so bad after all…

We got our goodies…

…and headed home to get our lunch on.

At this point, I was again reminded that I’m definitely not ready for mommydom. This sounds entirely trivial—but I’m not used to catering to anyone’s cravings but my own. And mommydom means your cravings come segundo. No me gusta.

You see, I’m big on the whole intuitive eating thing. I’ve not read the book—but I avidly practice the “eat what you’re in the mood for” principle.

I was in the mood for an omelet. Gigi was not. I wasn’t up for making separate lunches—nor was I interested in force-feeding an omelet to a stubborn five year old.

So I got creativo and made the following pitch:

Gigi, what if I told you that we could turn eggs into cupcakes?

Dora signed off on this proposal, and we set out to make Caitlin’s mini quichesegg cupcakes.

We mixed up 5 eggs, 1 cup of broccoli, goat cheese and sun-dried tomatoes, poured the mix into cupcake tins and baked them at 350° for 35 minutes.

Gigi didn’t like the whole waiting 35 minutes aspect of our egg cupcakes—so we had a lunch appetizer of Jarlsberg nachos and hummus.

You know I never speak badly about my beloved Sabra—but the Chipotle hummus was disgusting. This is the only Sabra flavor I’ve met and not liked. It was weirdly smoky and just very awkward tasting.

Malo.

Bueno.

Good thing we had other Sabra options.

Greek Olive saved el día.

Actually, egg cupcakes saved el día.

These were incredible—and so kid-friendly.

I threw some mozzarella and parmesan on top of mine and broiled them for an additional two minutes.

Gigi went the straight-up mozzarella route.

Egg cupcakes? ¡Delicioso!Foodie & Dora-approved .

After several more horas of chasing Gigi, I was happy to drop her off with her madre and unwind by making myself an unrushed, non-kiddie cena.

First up, roasted broccoli.

Simply tossed in EVOO and sugar, then broiled for 8 minutes.

Luckily 8 minutes turned out beautifully this time around .

I also roasted my last kabocha squash of the season .

See you next fall, mi amor…

And whipped up a big bowl of cold sesame noodles.

I don’t have a recipe for this one because I was ravenous and just threw together a basic combo of soy sauce, peanut butter, almond milk, garlic, sesame oil and honey.

And garnished with sesame seeds and crushed peanuts .

I knew how Gigi felt waiting for the egg cupcakes earlier. It was not fun waiting for these to get cold. But SO worth it.

I think I really needed my precious kitchen time after a day of running around with/after Gigi because post-cena, I got the baking bug.

As usual, I embraced it.

I finally made April’s low-carb sweet bread, which was AMAZING.

Even more so topped with cream queso and strawberry preserves.

I guess the strawberry craving from my dream was still lingering… .

Preguntas: Do you dream of food creations? Por favor, tell me I’m not the only one. Do you have kids? If so, how do you manage ENJOYING EATING while catering to kiddie taste buds and an on-the-go lifestyle?

And there I was—thrown into a land where prosciutto is praised and chorizo is celebrated. However, I wasn’t about to prance into a welcoming Spanish family’s home and instruct them on how to feed me. I told my señora—my host-mom—that I preferred pollo and seafood, but that I’d happily eat my way around any other meats she threw into dishes.

Señora Cristina was overwhelmingly accommodating and never served jamonor chorizo as the center of our meals. But lunches—which were packed for escuela—were a bit more dicey on the meat front.

(Her housekeeper packed them and obviously wasn’t aware of my finicky relationship with meat. Her name was Lolita. She spoke in song. And told me tales of her teenage love stories. Clearly, I liked her anyway.)

Most often, I got prosciutto slabbed on a baguette—in which case, I just ate the baguette. On better days, I got a Spanish tortilla (essentially an egg, onion and potato pie) slabbed on a baguette—in which case, I just ate the tortilla.

And then there were the best days. I’d eagerly and inquisitively unwrap the mysterious foil to find a simple cheese sandwich. Elation—and, uh, consumption—would commence immediately.

Not only was I thrilled to be able to eat my lunch in its entirety—but I was in love with whatever ridiculously creamy, gourmet cheese Lolita spread between those two pieces of white bread.

I’m not above admitting that I loved life just a little bit more on cheese sandwich days. So much so that when my six months en España came to its end, I refused to part ways with my beloved gourmetqueso español. I was determined to find an American version of the cheese that saved me from six months of lunchtime starvation.

And so, on my last day in Spain, I asked my señora to do her best to describe the type of cheese that Lolita put on my sandwiches—so that maybe, with some thorough investigation and scouring, I’d be able to find its American counterpart.

With that novel of a love profession preface, I’d like to introduce you to three NEW vacas that I’ve welcomed into mi vida.

No, mis foodies, your eyes are not deceiving you, and this is not an April Fools joke. (I’d never be so cruel.) Those are three nuevoLaughing Cow flavors.

The bad news? They won’t be released until June.

The good news? I got to try them yesterday, and I’m here to report all the dirty (and by dirty, I mean delicious) details. (Also, it’s officially April, which means June is only dos short months away!)

**Before I continue, I just want to ensure you that I’m receiving no form of compensation from Laughing Cow. If you know me, you know I’m obsessed with food. So when I gush about a product, it’s because delicious food excites me, and I find it difficult to express said excitement without exclamation points and enthusiastic adjectives. I’m sure you understand, seeing as I’m the chica who fell in love with a CHEESE in Spain…)**

Let’s get to the queso.

Yesterday I was the luckiest foodie in NYC and attended a VIP tasting event featuring the three new Laughing Cow Light flavors.

Say hola to my little friends…

1. Blue Cheese

Taste bud talk: I’m really not a blue cheese person, but this was incredible. It was sort of the perfect blend of blue cheese and original Laughing Cow flavors.

Cheesy concoction potential: I’m pretty sure this will replace feta in all of my ensaladas. I couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect it’d be on a summery salad with walnuts and manzanas. Oooh, it’d also be amazing in a wrap with Morningstar Buffalo Chik’n, or really any protein topped with Frank’s. (Kailey—I am prophesying that this is going to be your numero uno and make its way onto all of your summer wraps.)

2. Queso Fresco & Chipotle

Taste bud talk: Definitely the most distinct of the three flavors. It tastes exactly like the queso fresco you find in Mexican dishes—with an unmistakable chipotle pepper kick.

Cheesy concoction potential: My mind immediately went to eggs. It’d be great in an omelet or quiche creation. I also bet that if you melted it and mixed it with habanero lime salsa, it’d make a pretty ridiculous dip.

3. Mozzarella, Sun-dried Tomato & Basil

Taste bud talk: Can it be June now,por favor? This flavor gets my number one billing—mostly because I think it’s the most versatile of the newbies. Slash because I’m obsessed with all things sun-dried tomato.

Cheesy concoction potential: I don’t even know where to begin without wetting myself. I really can’t wait to smear it on everything. Wraps, pita pizzas, my face… No, but seriously, I’ve already dreamed up several concoctions. The one I’m most excited to create is a hummus featuring this flavor, sun-dried tomatoes and kalamata olives. I can taste its perfection already.

Honestly, all three flavors were amazing. And I was thinking of all of you the whole time I was there because I know how integral a role Laughing Cow plays in our foodie lives/creations—and I know you’re all going to fall in love. (Because I know I’m not the only foodie freak that feels affection for queso…)

As much as I enjoyed the wedges straight up—and I had several of each, for review purposes only —the hor d’ourves were incredible.

This one featured sun-dried tomato and kalamata—which is an automatic foodgasm in my book.

I like how I say “also in attendance” as if she and I were on the same level. I should clarify that while I was a guest at the event, she was the event.

If you don’t know Hungry Girl—whose real name is Lisa Lillien—she’s the voice behind a daily e-newsletter that dishes out news, tips and recipes focused on helping hungry chicas navigate the world of healthy eating. Oh, she’s also a New York Times best-selling cookbook author.

She was at the event debuting her newly-released cookbook Hungry Girl 1-2-3, which features her simplest, guilt-free recipes.

That’s her above, fervently proclaiming her adoration of Laughing Cow. While my sentiments for LC are strong, Lisa devoted an entire section of her book to la vaca que ríe.That’s amor.

In all seriousness, I was so excited to meet Hungry Girl because (1) I’ve always sort of felt like we were food soul mates and (2) she’s basically fulfilled my dream of creating a career that combines food, nutrition and writing.

Oh, and she’s adorably little. A.K.A. I didn’t look like a midget standing next to her. This always earns bonus point en mi libro .

It was such an amazing event—in part because we were on a rooftop and the NYC weather gods decided to play nice yesterday, in part because it was so much fun tasting the new flavors. Mostly, though, the event’s success rode on the people who were present. It was so extraordinary to just talk food with so many like-minded, passionate (read: food looooving) people.

I’ve already started making my way through Hungry Girl 1-2-3—and I can’twait to try, uh, every recipe. Maybe I’ll cook my way through, blog about it and a major motion picture house will turn it into a movie. Oh, that’s been done before?

Tell me, amigas, which Laughing Cow flavor are you most excited about? Also, are there any brands to which you’re loyal because they hold sentimental value? Tell me I’m not the only one…

I’m off to la cocina to make some matzo miracles with Martha’s recipes in-hand. Are you celebrating Passover? What’s your favorite matzo goodie? To my non-Joodies (Jew-foodies?), what’s your take on matzo? Love it, hate it, no desire to venture into unleavened breadland?

Be back soon with normal foodie shenanigans and a recap of whatever matzo madness is about to commence in my cocina!

Oh, that’s not how the saying goes? Well, that’s definitely how it went this weekend.

If you’ve not heard, the skies that hover above NYC—the same ones that just a day before had begun to resemble the likes of springtime—decided to open up wide and bestow a violent deluge upon its city.

Fear not, mis foodies. I’m safe. Such would be the prone outcome of spending the entire weekend en mi casa.

As soon as I realized that the outside mundo meant monsoons and the possibility of death by fallen willow trees (bet you didn’t know we had those in Brooklyn…), I made the executive decision to have a homebody fin de semana.

I did not make the executive decision to go on a baking spree. That just, uh, happened. (Likely, this was my subconscious attempt to lure social interaction into the comforts of mi casa. It worked, in case you were wondering. Slash I wanted to confirm that I did not eat all of the following comida on my own .)

Chocolate banana bites? Bueno. It was the peanut butter topping that wooed me.

And rather quickly so.

I read her post at 6 p.m. on Friday. By 6:28 p.m., I’d decided to embrace my inner PB floozy and concoct those little bites of perfection. (I don’t have a freaky photographic memory [though I was infinitely envious of Cam Jansen during my childhood]. I know the exact time because I tweeted Jessica for some PB advice.)

For the full recipe—not to mention far more photogenic documentation of the chocolate banana bites—check out Jessica’s post. (Warning: If you don’t want to go on a baking spree like me, don’t peruse her recipe page.)

Seriously, I strongly advise against browsing her recipes unless you have a desire to (a) drool on your keyboard and then practice a masochistic amount of self-restraint in your decision to not commence baking or (b) drool on your keyboard and surrender to a baking bender.

I basically kept the recipe the same, but tweaked the flour, cream cheese and sugar amounts to see if I could get a sweeter, more cream-cheesy cookie. (Many reviews I’d read of this recipe—including Jessica’s—said the cookie wasn’t quite sweet enough. And I, personally, adore all things cream queso so I knew I wanted to amp up its prominence.)

First things first—the batter was heavenly.It tasted like icing—which made it difficult to noteat spoonful after spoonful.

The cookies—despite the long list of naughty ingredients that went into them—were actually very light tasting. And their consistency was cake-like. (This, I think, was a result of my flour/sugar/cream cheese tweaking.)

They benefited greatly from a little icing action. I may have enlisted the leftover batter for icing purposes.

Oh, you’re not supposed to eat raw eggs? Oops.

And, again, White Chocolate Wonderful icing worked brilliantly.

You’d think my productivity in the kitchen—which, by the way, is the phrasing I’m using to describe this baking binge—would have extended into the realm of creating, um, more diabetic-friendly eats (read: real food). But, again, you’d be wrong.

While I had an uncanny motivation to wear my Pillsbury dough boy hat en la cocina all weekend long, I had no desire or energy to concoct any real food.

I blame the monsoon. You see, I knew that many New Yorkers were experiencing power outages—thus being forced to order in all of their meals. So, being the empathic chica that I am, despite having full power, I wanted to share the powerless sorrows of my fellow New Yorkers.

Ethnic feast numero dos, brought to you by Chopstix, included chicken dumplings, chicken and Chinese eggplant in garlic sauce and chow fun.

Takeout overload.

Come Sunday morning, I was ready to part ways with all things baked and taken-out. Yep, that sugar (slash general food abundance) coma finally hit me, and all I wanted was a big, comforting bowl of oats.

Enter Chai Latte Oats. This is a recipe I’ve been dreaming up ever since I first became enthralled by the art of concOATions (you know, oat concoctions).

Chai lattes have a special place in my heart because they were my cafe drink of choice before I became a coffee person.

Yes, the coffee monster that stands before you today once detested anything that hailed from or mimicked the flavor of coffee beans. College quickly changed that. But prior to acquiring coffee-friendly taste buds—courtesy of many all-nighters of coffee chugging—I always ordered a vanilla chai latte when I found myself in a “I’m the only one not drinking coffee” social situation.

Bring almond milk and 1/4 tsp. sea salt to a slow boil in a saucepan and add teabag. Let simmer for 5-8 minutes, stirring to make sure a milk “skin” doesn’t form.

Add the oats, oat bran, vanilla and honey and cook on medium low heat for about 8 minutes—or until your desired consistency is almost reached.

Turn heat very low and slowly add whisked egg whites. Whisk in and cook on low for at least 5 minutes. When your desired consistency is reached, stir in flaxseeds.

Transfer to bowl. Douse in cinnamon. Sprinkle with remaining sea salt. And add a drizzle more of honey, agave or another sweetener, if you want a super sweet chai bowl.

I know that seems like a ton of work for a bowl of oatmeal, but I promise you, it’s worth it.

The result? The creamiest, most flavor-packed bowl of oats ever.

The creaminess that surrounded the oats had the perfect balance of sweet honey and vanilla and spicy chai—and the cinnamon, honey and sea salt topping was the proverbial cherry on top.

(A side note: you know you’ve spent too much time photographing your comida when it begins gathering feathers…)

All mixed together—it became even more apparent that the texture of this oat bowl rivaled that of a thick rice pudding.

Verdict: chai latte oatmeal > chai latte.

I’m not sure exactly what made this bowl of oats so fantastic—I’m thinking the texture was a result of slow-cooking and the whisked egg whites—but I know that I am going to experiment with jazzed up (hello, perfect backdrop for dried cherries and golden raisins galore) editions whenever a lazy Sunday permits.

I urge you to do the same.

On that aggressive note, I’m off to spend el día with everyone’s favorite explorer.Happy martes, amigas!

Last week, when I reached out for cottage cheese consultation, my dear amiga Little Jinsisted that I’d fall in love with her favoritocottage cheese concoction, which involves fresh fruta, Kashi and almond butter. My taste buds operate on a similar wavelength as hers do—so I was eager to heed her advice.

Unfortunately (except not really), I’ve been a bit of a cottage cheese junkie since discovering its glory. This means I’ve been plowing through almost an entire container in un día. This also means that every morning when I’ve woken up intent on trying the Jess Favorito, I’ve not had enough cottage cheese left to make it work.

Oh, the woes of a crack cottage cheese addict…

But back to that miercoles morning moment of inspiration. I realized that, for the first time in a long time since I started eating cottage cheese last week, I had enough cottage quesoleft to make the Jess Special.

Endeavor was a poor word choice. Clearly I succeeded at dominating that dinner.

Let’s start in the center because the eggplant dish was the star of cena.

En serio, this may have been the best eggplant dish I’ve ever created.

Oh, you want a receta? Fine.

Sesame Seed Japanese Eggplant

Serves one as entree.

Ingredients:

2 Japanese eggplants

sesame oil

2 tbsp. sesame seeds

2 tbsp. soy sauce

1/2 packet stevia

Directions:

Pre-heat oven to 400°.

Cut the eggplants lengthwise.

Score around the edge of the skin and then cross-score.

Brush with sesame oil.

Mix 2 tbsp. soy sauce with 1/2 a packet of stevia.

Then pour 1/2 tbsp. of soy sauce/stevia mixture onto each eggplant half, making sure it sinks into the cuts.

Place on baking dish and sprinkle 1/2 tbsp. of sesame seeds on each eggplant half.

Bake for 40-45 minutes, until eggplant is soft and the skins begin to peel away from the flesh.

The result?

Fantastically tender, sweet, salty, sesame-seedy eggplant.

I’m very partial to smothering my baked eggplant with hummus—but this dish really gave that combo a run for its money. I’m pretty sure the crux of the deliciousness lies in the stevia and soy sauce mixture.

I was so enamored by this concoction thatparte dos y parte tres of my dinner also featured it.

Desperate for a quick carb fix, I hit up my instant oatmeal stash and attempted a simple side of savory oats.

What resulted was an unexpected foodgasm.

The method:

Microwave one packet of plain instant oatmeal with a dash of salt and a little less than 2/3 cup of water for 2.5 minutes.

Combine another 2 tbsp. of soy sauce with 1/2 packet of stevia.

Douse instant oatmeal with soy sauce mixture and stir.

Commence consumption/moaning over instant “sticky rice” oatmeal.

Despite all of the effort I put into the rest of my dinner, this 2.5 minute creation was—hands down—the best part. I will likely begin eating this on a daily basis. As should you.

Dessert catered to my both my sweet and salty cravings.

Vanilla peanut butter fro-yo with whipped cream, sourdough pretzels and the salty remnants from the bottom of the pretzel bag.

BRILLIANCE.

Seriously, spring brings out the best in us.

Unfortunately yesterday’s taste of primaverawas exactly that—a taste. The forecast for the weekend is not looking so bueno—but I’ll be perfectly content curling up with bowls of instant sticky rice oatmeal, sweet and salty fro-yo and cottage cheese concoctions.

Preguntas: Are you as enamored by springtime as I am? Even if it’s just a tease of warm weather day? What’s the last amazing food discovery you stumbled upon on a whim?

To continue my proclamation of amor for my favorite food group, let’s play a little game of name that tune.

I love carbs, carbs, carbs, carbs

Carbs, I do adore

Sound familiar? No? Okay, maybe it’s not a real song. Maybe I just replaced the word carbs for girls in Jay-Z’s “Girls, Girls Girls.” But it’s catchy, no? Perhaps it’s time for a food-themed remix, jigga.

So you’re probably wondering: ¿por que are we still talking about carbs?

I don’t doubt that I effectively communicated the fact that I love my carbs on Friday. However, while most of you embraced my carby adoration, I did receive one anonymous carb-condemning comment.

It went as follows:

Wow you really eat alot of carbs. Ever heard of “everything in moderation”? I find it interesting that your studying nutrition yet promoting such a reckless dietary approach. Your clients are gonna be obese.

Lovely, no?

I usually let negative anonymous comments fall by the wayside—and I won’t bother addressing the grammatical mishaps (oh, wait…)—but I do feel obliged to come to the defense of my beloved carbs.

Dear Anonymous Carb/Me-Hater,

Yes, I eat a lot of carbs. (Some may even go so far as to call me carbzilla.) And, yes, I’ve heard that whole “everything in moderation” spiel. (In fact, it’s sort of the backbone of my food philosophy.) But who says high-carb equates to a “reckless dietary approach?” Sure, there are a lot of nutritional experts who preach low-carb, high-protein diets. But, for every R.D. telling you to put down that piece of bread, there’s another telling you to open up wide, chew that carby goodness and get skinny. My point is that there is no one right dietary approach. We’re all different. And we all have different dietary needs. My body happens to feel its healthiest when I give it lots of carbs. Yours may not (in which case, I send my condolences).

Carbingly yours,

Sarah a.k.a. Carbzilla

Don’t believe me on the high-carb thing? Let’s take a gander at what I studied en escuela this weekend.

Well, what do you know? I’m not alone on this whole “carbs can do the body good” thing.

Can you imagine how excited I was to open my handout folder and find this at the top of the pile? Yes, the first order of business at escuela was studying the history, progression and validity of high carb diets. (This made me wonder if IIN has ESP/reads my blog?) Needless to say, I was fascinated and jotted down every word mi profesor said regarding the benefits of getting our carb on.

I also used this carbspiration as an excuse to wander down to Whole Foods during my lunch break and pick up some new carb goodies.

(Yea, I shop at Whole Foods with a Trader Joe’s bag. Blasphemy.)

I can’t wait to experiment with these—especially the millet!

Among other topics like protein, calorie requirements and the macrobiotic diet, we also learned about the principles behind The South Beach Diet. (This further fed my suspicion that my school has ESP/reads my blog, as I just mentioned The South Beach Diet on Friday.) Our guest lecturer was Dr. Arthur Agatston, the author of The South Beach Diet. Despite having a not-so-fun personal foray into South Beach dieting, it was fascinating to learn about how and why he developed the diet. For the record, even Dr. Agatston addressed the benefits of carbs. Just saying…

Since all this carb talk is only further perpetuating my carbzilla reputation, I will now switch gears to another (newly) beloved c-food: cottage cheese.

Since we last spoke, I’ve been through three containers of cottage cheese. In defense of cottage cheese/me, I really wanted to try out so many of your cottage cheese recommendations. All in the name of experimentation, mis amigas.

I’m not sure what inspired this crazy concoction—I was mostly just craving a ridiculously creamy bowl of oats—but I’m glad I went with it. I usually just cook my oats in water, but the almond milk, plus the cottage cheese addition at the end, created the perfect creamy consistency.

Broiled brilliance. I was pretty skeptical of how cottage cheese would taste post-broilage, but the crispy cottage cheese layer that formed was amazing.

The only fail was the fact that—due to aforementioned skepticism—I only made one. Muy triste.

Preguntas: I didn’t go into too much detail about escuela because I wasn’t sure how much you want to know. Do you want to hear more on what I’m learning? Or more about the experience as a whole? Oh, and, since you gave my such amazing cottage cheese recommendations last time, do you have any more that I must try? I’d be happy to oblige .

Yesterday, 13 people Googled the term “carbzilla” and landed on my blog. Thirteen people. Seriosamente.

This, in itself, was too hilarious not to share. But, upon perusing yesterday eats, I realized that I really am a carbzilla.

I’ve always realized that I have a very carb-centric diet. (I blame this on my stint with the South Beach Diet in tenth grade. I’m pretty sure my body consistently demands carbs to compensate for that period of deprivation. Lo siento about that, cuerpo.) But yesterday was a full-blown carbzilla día.

Unfortunately, in addition to being a carbzilla, I’m apparently also a cottage cheezilla. On my first day of cottage cheese consumption, I polished off almost an entire container. All that remained was—maybe—a half-cup serving.

In my carbzilla defense, I did consume some fruta in the form of an undocumented apple and orange. They were eaten whole, in an entirely unphotogenic manner—which, if you’re a food blogger, you know grants you a get out of photographing free card.

I know that apples and oranges, too, are carbs. But these, mis foodies, are not the sort of carbs that earn you a reputation ascarbzilla.

I thought about veggifying the couscous—but all I really wanted was a big bowl of grainy goodness.

With a simple side of sweetness.

A few bites in, some of the starchy sweetness joined forces with the gloriously golden couscous.

And then some glorious golden additions made their way onto the sweetness.

I will not apologize for my copious carbageporque it’s simply what my cuerpo craved.

Oh, and I had plans to drink dance the night away at an amazing Mayer Hawthorne concert. So I needed the carby fuel .

Post-concert, carbage continued. I may or may not have decided to bake a cookie pie at 2 a.m.

(FYI: Cookie pie is the term I use to denote any cookie recipe baked in a brownie pan.)

I found this incriminating evidence this mañana.

Worry not, there were leftovers.

This cookie pie happened to be of the oatmeal raisin chocolate chip variety.

I did manage a little healthification by using whole wheat flour, agave, golden raisins and dark chocolate chips .

On that carb note, I have to get back to mi trabajo/the rest of the cookie pie!

Are you a carbzilla? Have you ever ventured into the land of carb-restrictive diets? I’ll wear my carbzilla badge with pride because not only does my body crave carbs, it functions best when it’s carb content. I was miserable when I attempted the South Beach/Atkins way of life—and I ended up gaining weight. So, para mi, carbs do the cuerpogood.

By now, I should know that cereal and I are futile breakfast partners in crime.

You see, when cereal and I meet en la mañana, we always do the same old dance. I dole out far too large a serving. I enjoy the soggy deliciousness but find myself still hungry. I refill with with more “heart healthy” servings. I continue to enjoy the soggy deliciousness ‘til el estómago tells me she’s full.I proceed to get hungry an hour later.

This story plays out the same way every single time. So, by now, I should know that, para mi, cereal is snack—not breakfast—material.

Yet, when I peer into my pantry and spy a mysterious addition of Honey Bunches of Oats’ new Vanilla bunches flavor, I immediately commence taste-testing.

It just so happened that, yesterday, I spied this newbie first thing in the A.M. And so cereal for breakfast it was.

I attempted to change my standard cereal saga by eating out of my enormous new mugbowl—in hopes that pouring a larger than life portion would preclude my usual refillage.

I also added some organic dried bing cherries for a little healthification. A valiant nutritional effort, no?

This tactic backfired porque, as I said, my breakfast cereal saga always plays out the same way. Refills were had. Only this time, they were larger than normal since I made the brilliant call to eat out of a bowlmug bigger than my head.

Ah well, I embraced the necessity of refillage as an opportunity to try out a creation that’s been on my mind since it graced my Google Reader month’s ago.

My food affair with that incredible white stilton cheese, on the other hand, has a history. If you ever see this cheese in stores (I rarely do), get it. I promise, you’ll fall in love (with me and the queso).

That little plato was snacktastic. However, it was a bit of a foodie fail because there’s something else I should’ve known by now.

When you have plans to feast with a fellow foodie, you shouldn’t do your own pre-gaming.

Mostly because if your dining companion is truly a foodie, he’ll expect some pre-game action, too.

Mildly full from the queso, I somehow managed to try the pre-feast goodies that my fellow foodie brought over.

The first being Trader Joe’s Pomegranate & Blueberry Flakes And Clusters Cereal:

He recently picked this up and, having a pretty good gauge of my foodie taste buds, realized I’d be obsessed with it. I am. Another cereal I’ll have to add to the breakfast snack roster.

We also noshed on leftovers from an incredible turkey chili he made this week.

I looove chili but rarely eat it because I’ve never ventured into chili cooking. Anyone have a to-die-life chili recipe (preferably vegetarian)?

Ok, enough snackage. Let’s get to real cena.

We weren’t sure what we were going to make—but we knew it would involve this.

Oh, just some pomegranate arils and TJ’s dried cherries that had been marinating in a balsamic, pepper and agave medley for 24 hours.

I decided to make this magical mix the star of a couple ensaladas enormes.

There wasn’t quite enough marinade left to dress both of our salads, so I mixed some extra balsamic vinegar and agave for good measure.

BEST. SALAD. EVER. The noises I was making during the devouring process were really embarrassing/mildly inappropriate.

Next up, pollo!

Chicken breasts, also marinated in balsamic, pepper and pomegranate, and then pan-fried.

BEST. POLLO. EVER.

On the side, we had couscous. If you couldn’t guess, I’m going to go ahead and deem this the best couscous ever.

In all seriousness, this is my tried-and-true method for preparing couscous.

This is how we do it: I cook 1 cup dry couscous in 1 cup vegetable broth. In a separate saucepan, I grill onions and sauté minced garlic in EVOO. In a small bowl, I pour warm water over about 1/2 cup golden raisins so they plump up. When the couscous is done, I combine it all and season with sea salt, garlic and cinnamon.

A tip to keep couscous on the lighter side: Never add the recommended amount of butter or olive oil while cooking. Its flavor will mostly get lost during the cooking process. To moisten and deliciously flavor your couscous, you need far less butter. And you can simply add it to taste to each serving.

A tip to fall in love with your couscous: There is no such thing as too much grilled onion.

Despite singing cries of fullness after finishing this feast, we were somehow ready for dessert an hour later.

Not so bonita because it had been previously “tasted” by mi padre and mi fellow foodie—but this little box took delicious decadence to new heights.

I have a loyal love-love-love relationship with cheesecake, and this ridiculous creamy wonder definitely made it into my top five ever tasted.

Clearly.

Do you have any food lessons that you feel you should know by now? I’m not sure I’ll ever fully grasp the “cereal does not keep me full” thing—but at least learning, and re-learning, that lesson is a delicious experience .